IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-S) 


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Hiotographic 

Sciences 

Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

(716)  872-4S03 


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CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHM/ICMH 
Collection  de 
nicrofiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions  /  Institut  Canadian  de  microreproductions  historiques 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notas/Notes  techniquas  at  bibliographiquas 


Tha  Instituta  has  attamptad  to  obtain  tha  bast 
original  copy  availabia  for  filming.  Faaturas  of  this 
copy  which  may  Isa  bibliographically  uniqua, 
which  may  altar  any  of  tha  imagas  in  tha 
raproduction,  or  which  may  significantly  changa 
tha  usual  mathod  of  filming,  ara  chackad  balow. 


D 


D 


□ 


n 


Colourad  covars/ 
Couvartura  da  coulaur 


I      I    Covers  damaged/ 


Couverture  andommagde 

Covers  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Couverture  restaur6e  et/ou  pellicuide 


I      ,    Cover  title  missing/ 

I — I    Le  titre  de  couverturo  manque 


r~|    Coloured  maps/ 


Cartes  gdographiquas  en  couleur 

Colo'ired  ink  (i.e.  other  than  blue  oi  black)/ 
Encre  de  coulaur  (i.e.  autre  que  bleue  ou  •'^oire) 

Coloured  plates  and/or  illustrations/ 
Planches  et/ou  illustrations  en  couleur 

Bound  with  other  material/ 
Reli6  avec  d'autras  documents 


rri    Tight  binding  may  cause  shadows  or  distortion 


along  interior  margin/ 

La  re  liure  serrie  peut  causer  de  I'ombre  ou  de  la 

distortion  le  long  de  la  marge  int^rieure 

Blank  leaves  added  during  restoration  may 
appear  within  the  text.  Whenever  possible,  these 
have  been  omitted  from  filming/ 
II  se  peut  que  certaines  pages  blanches  ajout6es 
tors  d'une  restauration  apparaissent  dans  le  texte, 
mais,  lorsque  cela  6tait  possible,  ces  pages  n'ont 
pas  6t6  filmdes. 

Additional  comments:/ 
Commentaires  suppl6mantaires: 


T 
t( 


L'Institut  a  microfilm^  la  meilleur  exemplaire 
qu'il  lui  a  6ti  possible  de  se  procurer.  Les  details 
de  cet  exemplaire  qui  sont  peut-Atre  uniques  du 
point  de  vue  bibliographiqua,  qui  peuvent  modifier 
une  image  reproduite,  ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une    ^^ 
modification  dans  la  mAthoda  normale  de  fllmage 
sont  indiquAs  ci-dessous. 


I      I    Coloured  pages/ 


Pages  de  couleur 

Pages  damaged/ 
Pages  endom  magmas 

Pages  restored  and/oi 

Pages  restaurdes  et/ou  pellicul6es 

Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxei 
Pages  ddcolordes,  tachetdes  ou  piqu6es 

Pages  detached/ 
Pages  d^tachdes 

Showthroughy 
Transparence 

Quality  of  prir 

Quality  indgala  de  I'impression 

Includes  supplementary  materii 
Comprend  du  mat6riel  suppl^mentaire 

Only  edition  available/ 
Seule  ddition  disponible 


I  I  Pages  damaged/ 

I  I  Pages  restored  and/or  laminated/ 

I  I  Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed/ 

I  I  Pages  detached/ 

I  I  Showthrough/ 

I  I  Quality  of  print  varies/ 

I  I  Includes  supplementary  material/ 

I  I  Only  edition  available/ 


T 
P 

0 

fl 


C 
b 

tl 

si 
o 

fl 

si 

o 


n 


Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata 
slips,  tissues,  etc.,  have  been  refilmed  to 
ensure  the  best  possible  image/ 
Les  pages  totaiement  ou  partiellement 
obscurcies  par  un  feuillet  d'errata,  une  pelure, 
etc.,  ont  6t6  film^es  d  nouveau  de  fapon  d 
obtenir  la  meilleure  image  possible. 


T 
si 

T 

IV 
di 
ei 
bi 
ri 
re 
nn 


This  itf^m  is  filmed  at  the  reduction  ratio  checked  below/ 

Ca  document  est  film6  au  taux  de  reduction  indiqui  ci-dessous. 

lOX  14X  18X  22X 


26X 


30X 


u 


12X 


16X 


20X 


24X 


28X 


32X 


Th0  copy  filmed  hara  ha*  baan 
to  tha  ganarosity  of: 


aproducad  thanks 


•Is 

lu 

iifier 

ne 

age 


ita 


lure. 


] 


IX 


University  of  1 'orunto  Library 


Tha  imagas  appaaring  hara  ara  tha  bast  quality 
possibia  considaring  tha  condition  and  iagibility 
of  tha  original  copy  and  in  kaaping  with  tha 
filming  contract  spacifications. 


Original  copias  in  printad  papar  covars  ara  filmad 
beginning  with  tha  front  covat  and  anding  on 
tha  last  paga  with  a  printad  or  iliustratad  impras- 
sion,  or  tha  back  covar  wr3n  appropriate.  All 
othar  original  copiaa  ara  filmad  beginning  on  tha 
first  paga  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, and  anding  on  the  last  page  with  a  printad 
or  illustrated  impression. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  micrcfiche 
shall  contain  tha  symbol  —»■(  meaning  "CON- 
TINUED"), or  the  symbol  y  (meaning  "END"), 
whichever  applies. 

IViaps,  plates,  charts,  etc..  may  be  filmed  at 
different  reduction  ratios.  Those  too  large  to  be 
entirely  included  in  one  exposure  ara  filmed 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  frames  as 
required.  The  following  diagrams  illustrate  the 
method: 


h     1 

2 

3 

L'exemplaira  filmA  fut  reprcduit  grice  i^  la 
ginirositA  da: 

Univaraity  of  Toronto  Library 


Las  imagas  suivantas  ont  6ti  reproduitas  avac  la 
plus  grand  soin,  compta  tanu  da  la  condition  at 
da  ia  nattet*  da  I'axemplaira  film*,  at  an 
conformity  avac  las  conditions  du  contrat  da 
filmage. 

Lea  exemplairas  originaux  dont  la  couvarturv  en 
papier  est  imprimte  sont  filmts  an  commandant 
par  ia  premier  plat  at  an  tarminant  soit  par  le 
darnlAre  paga  qui  comporta  una  amprainta 
d'impression  ou  d'iilustration.  soit  par  la  second 
piat.  selon  le  cas.  Tous  las  autras  exemplairas 
originaux  sont  filmte  an  commandant  par  la 
pramiAre  paga  qui  comporta  une  empreinte 
d'impreasion  ou  d'iilustration  at  an  terminant  par 
ia  darniAre  page  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 

Un  des  symboles  suivants  apparaitra  sur  la 
darniire  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  salon  la 
cas:  la  symbole  ^^-^>  signifie  "A  SUIVRE ",  le 
symbols  V  signifia  "FIN". 

Les  cartes,  planches,  tubieaux.  etc.,  peuvent  6tre 
filmte  d  des  taux  da  reduction  diffirents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  Atre 
reproduit  en  un  seul  cliche,  il  est  filmA  d  partir 
da  I'angia  supArieur  gauche,  de  gauche  d  droite. 
et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'imagas  nicessaira.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrant  ia  mithode. 


1     f 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

--,-  -1 '  --  ■^•.JWVw^f ^?W^T»S4.»rf!li(*»»« 


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A  Generation  of 
Cornell 

1 868- 1 898 

Being  the  Address  Given  June  i6th,  1898,  at 

the  Thirtieth  Annual  Commencement 

of  Cornell  University 


By 


Jacob  Gould   Schurman 

President  of  the  University 


G.   P.   PUTNAM'S   SONS 

NEW  YORK  AND  LONDON 

tCbe  Itniclictboclier  preee 

1898 


Mv 


h  \ 


■!     !(. 


COPYRIGHT,    1898 

BY 

G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 


/■ 


Ube  «niclierboclier  preee,  «ew  Corft 


ll   I||«H 


"   ^  "  I  iillii  m\  m 


What  custom  wills,  in  all  things  should  we  do 't, 
The  dust  on  antique  time  would  lie  unswept, 
And  mountainous  error  be  too  highly  heap'd 
For  truth  to  o'er-peer, 

COKIOUNUS,  ACT   II.,    SCENE   III. 


.  *«-j».-i  i;"~j:**~'7if^ir-:u..-j'-''^i"*::.';'s«/'i"-ja:~^,jt^*»«»fcV-.'  .7:jjn-o.»i-.-»^::,-,**T.-ji  - 


,"»*^»**  ■w,«xr'.'«>^i«->-'#  v*>  -k— <^" . .««*:"*fc -- 


..«=v-«*  ^^(i^:^,,  U 


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n;-.»»i;i6jriTC 


A  Generation  of  Cornell 


Ladies  and  Gentlemen  : 

To-OAY  we  celebrate  our  Thirtieth  Com- 
mencement. As  the  life  of  man  is  measured, 
a  generation  has  passed  away  since  the  open- 
ing of  Cornell  University  in  1868.  In  this  in- 
terval, the  stream  of  time  has  wafted  into  the 
Unseen  World  most  of  those  who  took  part  in 
the  formal  exercises  of  Inauguration.  The  he- 
roic Founder,  Ezra  Cornell ;  the  Chancellor  of 
the  State  Board  of  Regents,  J.  V.  L.  Pruyn ;  the 
representatives  of  the  Trustees,  Erastus  Brooks 
and  George  H.  Andrews;  the  spokesman  of 
the  Faculty,  William  Channing  Russel;  and 
those  brilliant  delegates  from  the  re|jublic  of 
Science  and  Letters,  Louis  Agassiz  and  George 
William  Curtis ; — every  one  of  them  has 

"  walked  the  way  of  Nature  ; 
And  to  our  purposes  he  lives  no  more." 


i! 


Cbe 

Unniiiiurna 

tion  in 

tSC8 


"-'4        'ir^*-,~,-i:- 


;r:i-;;s=r3c-*«r*»swrii" 


Siii'Vlviiit) 
Sp<at;cre 


a  feneration  of  Cornell 


Indeed,  of  all  the  speakers  who  descanted  upon 
the  rising  University  on  that  glorious  autumn 
day,  tour  only  remain  to  us.  Two  of  them 
we  rejoice  to  welcome  on  this  stage  to-day. 
Here  is  General  Woodford,  fresh  from  the 
Court  of  Spain,  where,  as  American  Minister, 
charged  with  the  conduct  of  diftlcult  and  ex- 
tremely delicate  negotiations,  he  has,  by  a 
happy  blending  of  energy  and  dignity,  of 
tact  and  skill,  and  not  least  of  reticence,  so 
planted  his  honors  in  the  eyes  of  his  fellow- 
citizens,  and  his  actions  in  their  hearts,  that 
their  tongues  everywhere  re-echo  his  praise. 
He  is  an  old  friend  and  a  faithful  Trustee  of 
this  University,  whose  opening  he  attended 
as  representative  of  the  State  of  New  York, 
of  which  at  that  time  he  was  Lieutenant-Gov- 
ernor. On  this  stage  too  is  the  sometime  le- 
gal adviser,  the  friend  and  helper  of  Ezra 
Cornell, — the  gentleman  who  at  the  Inaugu- 
ration of  the  University  presented,  on  behalf 
of  Miss  Jennie  McGraw,  the  bells  whose  music 
still  orders  our  daily  life,  the  lectures  of  week- 
days and  the  solemn  services  of  the  Sabbath, 
and  who,  having  since  worn  worthily  for 
fourteen  years  the  robes  of  the  highest  judi- 
cial office  in  the  State,  now  serves  the  Univer- 


I     »• 


riMIIM^A.,^^^^ 


i>|'<by 


TEbe  Xeainninoa 


sity  his  friend  hud  founded  as  Dean  of  the 
Faculty  of  Law.  But.  besides  Judge  Finch 
and  General  Woodford,  there  is  a  third  sur- 
vivor whose  name  suffuses  the  incunabula 
of  our  /I/ma  Mater  with  the  light  of  rosy-fin- 
gered dawn.  I  need  not  in  this  presence  say 
that  I  mean  our  first  President,  Andrew  D. 
White.  Though  he  now  fills  the  exalted  office 
of  Ambassador  of  the  United  States  to  the 
Court  of  Germany,  is  it  not  higher  praise  that, 
in  spite  of  a  birthright  of  wealth  and  an  inher- 
itance of  leisure,  he  has  so  devoted  himself  to 
scholarship,  politics,  and  diplomacy  that  he 
has  become  the  living  embodiment  of  the 
best  ideal  of  American  citizenship  ?  Across 
the  ocean  we  send  him  our  affectionate  and 
admiring  greetings. 

Of  the  original  Faculty  some  have  passed 
away,  some  have  gone  to  other  positions,  and 
some  still  remain  with  us.  Willard  Fiske  has 
taken  up  his  residence  in  Florence,  where,  by 
drawing  on  all  parts  of  Europe,  he  has  gener- 
ously secured  for  Cornell  University  the  monu- 
mental Dante  library,  of  which  the  catalogue 
is  now  appearing  from  the  press.  Goldwin 
Smith,  after  four  years  of  active  service,  re- 
tired from  the  instructing  staff,  but  did  not 


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B  Generation  or  Cornell 


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ycnii'  of 
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withdraw  his  interest  or  affection  from  the 
University,  which  still  enjoys  the  lustre  of  his 
name  as  Emeritus  Professor.  The  Registrar 
and  acting  President,  William  D.  Wilson,  re- 
lieved of  his  multifarious  duties,  enjo}s  a  well- 
earned  repose  in  Syracuse,  with  substantial 
proofs  of  the  appreciation  of  the  Trustees  and 
honorary  membership  in  the  Faculty  whose 
affairs  he  once  so  completely  administered. 
George  C.  Caldwell,  James  Law,  John  L.  Mor- 
ris, Burt  G.  Wilder,  T.  F.  Crane,  and  J.  M. 
Hart  are  still  active  and  honored  members  of 
the  University,  of  whose  inception  they  were 
sharers,  and  to  whose  development  their  abil- 
ities and  labors  have  loyally  contributed. 

We  feel  to-day  the  past  and  the  present 
converging.  Our  thoughts  naturally  run  back 
from  this  hour  to  the  beginning  of  the  Univer- 
sity whose  Thirtieth  Commencement  we  are 
celebrating.  And  I  do  not  know  how  I  can  bet- 
ter employ  the  time  that  is  by  custom  allotted 
me  than  to  endeavor  to  sketch,  in  broad  outline, 
the  principal  features  of  the  development  of 
our  y4lma  Mater.  The  past  is  fruitful  of  in- 
struction and  of  inspiration  for  the  future. 
And  none  more  than  ours. 


'•^  _..  r  — 


paet  an^  present 


The  history  of  Cornell  University  falls  natu- 
rally into  two  divisions;  and  it  so  happens 
that  they  are  of  equal  length,  namely,  fifteen 
years.  Throughout  the  first  period,  wiiich 
began  with  1868-69  and  closed  with  1882-85, 
the  University  was  engaged  in  a  severe  strug- 
gle for  existence, — a  struggle  of  which  the 
issue  seemed  sometimes  hopeless,  though  it 
finally  terminated  in  a  victorious  survival. 
The  next  period,  from  1883-84  to  1897-98,  is 
one  of  growth,  consolidation,  and  many-sided 
activity;  and  1  shall  have  to  tell  of  the  use  we 
have  made  of  victory,  to  describe  the  expan- 
sion and  organization  of  the  throbbing  life  of 
the  University.  In  sketching  both  these  periods 
I  must  content  myself  with  the  merest  outline. 

1  will  not  on  this  occasion  speak  of  our 
noble  Founder,  who  has  taken  his  place  in 
American  history,  nor  yet  of  the  foundation  of 
the  University.  Its  original  endowment,  as 
you  know,  was  derived  from  two  sources. 
The  first  was  the  land  scrip  donated  by  Con- 
gress to  the  State  of  New  York,  from  which 
the  Commissioners  of  the  Land  Office  realized 
$473,402.87.*     The  income  from  the  fund, 

*  This  was  eventually — September,   1 895 — increased  by 


Chrouoa 

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H  Oeueration  of  dornell 


which  was  managed  by  the  State,  was  $i8,- 
000  in  1868-69,  an  1  !t  rose  during  the  follow- 
ing years  above  $20,000,  though  dropping^  in 
1881-82  below  that  figure,  which  it  never 
again  reached.  The  second  source  of  income 
was  Mr.  Cornell's  endowment  of  $500,000, 
which  was  secured  by  his  personal  bond  with 
Western  Union  Telegraph  Company's  seven 
per  cent  bonds  as  collateral.  The  receipts 
from  students  for  tuition  from  1868  to  1883 
never  reached  $20,000  a  year,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  1877  and  1878  ;  and  for  1868-69 
they  amounted  to  only  $9,919;  though  the 
salary  list  alone  for  that  year  was  $40,718. 

These  were  the  only  available  sources  ot 
income;  and  from  them  the  Trustees  had  to 
pay  salaries,  to  erect  buildings,  and  to  equip 
depa'tments  with  apparatus  and  other  facil- 
itie.'  for  instruction  and  research.  It  is  not 
surprising  therefore  that,  from  the  very  be- 
ginning, the  eflFort    to    mrke    income   meet 


$129,600,  namely,  thirty  cents  per  acre  on  the  432,000 
acres  sold  to  Mr.  Cornell  for  the  benefit  of  the  University, 
and  by  $85,573.25  premium  on  the  conversion  of  securities 
as  authorized  by  Chapter  Seventy-eight  of  the  Laws  of  1 895 ; 
— mai<ing  the  total  proceeds  from  the  scrip  $688,576. 12,  for 
which  the  University  now  holds  the  bond  of  the  State  of 
New  York  at  five  per  cent  interest  (as  explained  on  p.  31). 


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expenses  was  altogether  futile,  and  every 
successive  year  brought  an  increased  deficit. 
The  Treasurer's  report  for  1872  shows  a  debt 
of  $i5S,ooo,  the  interest  upon  which  was  a 
serious  drain  upon  the  annual  income  of  the 
University,  and  the  principal  of  which  it 
seemed  impossible  to  meet.  Yet  there  were 
in  the  Board  men  who  were  determined  to 
save  the  University  from  bankruptcy.  This 
indebtedness  was  extinguished  by  a  gift  of 
$7S,ooo  from  Ezra  Cornell,  and  of  $20,000  each 
from  Andrew  D.  White,  John  McGraw,  Henry 
W.  Sage,  and  Hiram  Sibley.  All  honor  to 
these  hopeful  and  generous  benefactors  in 
those  dark  and  cheerless  days  ! 

An  effort  which  seemed  like  rashness  had 
been  made  by  Mr.  Cornell  to  provide  addi- 
tional funds  for  the  University  he  had  founded 
and  endowed.  The  State  was  receiving  for 
its  land  scrip  prices  which  never  exceeded 
eighty-five  cents,  and  which  fell  even  to  fifty 
cents  an  acre.  The  low  price  was  the  effect 
of  an  overloaded  market ;  for  every  State  in 
the  Union  not  having  public  lands  in  its  own 
borders  was  directed  by  the  terms  of  the  Act 
of  Congress  of  July  2,  1862,  which  donated 
the  lands,  to  sell  its  scrip  forthwith.     New 


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B  Generation  ot  Cornell 


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York  State  had  already  sold  more  than  halt 
its  scrip  when  Mr.  Cornell  conceived  the  plan 
of  making  a  fortune  for  the  University  out  of 
the  432,000  acres  which  remained  unsold. 
Though  the  State  could  not  locate  the  scrip, 
an  individual  might.  On  August  4,  1866, 
Mr.  Cornell  made  a  formal  contract  with  the 
State  for  the  purchase  of  the  remaining  scrip 
at  the  then  ruling  price  of  sixty  cents  an  acre 
— thirty  cents  an  acre  to  be  paid  down — 
agreeing  to  locate  it  for  the  benefit  of  the  Uni- 
versity, in  the  expectation  of  creating  out  of 
future  appreciation  of  land  values  a  great  fund 
which  should  be  known  as  the  Cornell  Endow- 
ment Fund.  He  had  previously  purchased  out- 
right scrip  for  100,000  acres  at  fifty  cents  an 
acre  for  the  University.  With  scrip  thus  repre- 
senting 532,000  acres,  Mr.  Cornell,  in  1866  and 
1867,  after  careful  examination  with  a  view  to 
selecting  only  the  best,  located  517,000  acres 
in  the  timber  lands  of  Northern  Wisconsin, 
10,000  acres  in  tne  prairie  lands  of  Minnesota, 
and  5000  acres  in  the  form  lands  of  Kansas. 
When  prices  advanced  these  lands  should  be 
sold,  and,  after  paying  the  cost  of  purchase 
and  maintenance,  net  a  fortune  to  Mr.  Cornell's 
University  !     A  magnificent  speculation  if  the 


TTbe  Struddle  tor  Xife 


sanguine  hopes  of  the  Founder  should  be  rei'l- 
ized  ! 

These  Western  lands  were,  however,  only  a 
tract  of  great  expectations.  Indeed,  by  all  the 
standards  of  common  sense  and  solid  business 
judgment,  the  enterprise  seemed  less  a  for- 
tune than  a  misfortune.  The  expenses  attend- 
ant on  the  examination  and  location  had  been 
heavy;  the  annual  taxes  were  enormous.  But 
the  entire  outlay  was  met  by  Mr.  Cornell,  who 
also  gave  a  large  portion  of  his  time  and  spent 
much  labor  in  caring  for  the  investment. 
When  he  formally  transferred  the  lands  to 
the  University  in  November,  1874,  the  cash 
advances  he  had  made  on  account  of  them 
amounted  to  $576,953.47  in  excess  of  all  re- 
ceipts from  sales. 

Never  had  an  institution  received  such  an 
unpromising  endowment.  There  were  those 
in  the  Board  of  Trustees  who  felt  that  it  was 
unjustifiable  to  burden  the  already  struggling 
University  with  an  investment  of  this  charac- 
ter, which  required  large  annual  expenses  for 
taxes  and  management,  and  produced  no  an- 
nual income.  And  the  results  of  the  experience 
of  the  following  years  were  as  discouraging  as 
the  outlook  had  been  inauspicious.    The  taxes 


SJiiiScn  of 
Cairvi'ut 
tbc  laiCi! 


it" 


)'  { 


10 


H)aiu)ct 
}Gant;> 
riiptcv 


ot 


B  feneration  of  Cornell 


on  the  lands  and  the  cost  of  administration 
brought  the  annual  expenses  up  to  $60,000  or 
$70,000,  and  one  year  they  were  $94,000. 
Located  in  1866  and  1867,  the  lands  had  pro- 
duced an  annual  crop  of  expenditures  which 
by  1879  aggregated  $874,435. 57,  against  which 
the  total  receipts  from  the  sales  of  land  and 
timber  amounted  to  only  $7is,«>37.S3.  It 
needed  no  prophet  to  see  that  if  this  con- 
tinued for  some  years  longer  the  lands  would 
be  eaten  up  by  taxes  and  the  expenses  of  ad- 
ministration. Nay,  they  might  even  drag  the 
University  into  bankruptcy  ;  for  the  receipts 
from  all  sales  falling  short  of  the  cost  of 
maintenance,  the  endowment  of  the  Univer- 
sity had  been  trenched  upon  to  balance  the 
land  account.  Mr.  Cornell's  great  scheme  for 
the  enrichment  of  his  University  appeared  to 
be  rapidly  working  its  destruction. 

Nor  was  this  investment  in  Western  lands 
the  only  drain  upon  the  capital  of  the  Univer- 
sity. The  ordinary  expenses  of  maintenance, 
including  salaries  and  the  provision  of  the 
necessary  means  of  instruction  and  research, 
were  every  year  far  in  excess  of  the  income 
from  all  sources.  To  meet  the  deficit  there 
was  no  other  resource  than  to  borrow  from 


1  f 


h    I 


*^<>;:Ti"'''  .»'"^''"'  1-  .i>'  •■'•i—ii^ 


XTbe  Struddlc  tor  %\tc 


II 


the  endowment  fund,  and  by  1880  the  aggre- 
gate sum  of  $117,201  had  been  withdrawn 
for  that  purpose.  Of  course  this  loan  was  to 
be  repaid  when  the  income  of  the  University 
had  increased  by  the  sale  of  Western  lands  and 
the  investment  of  the  proceeds.  But  those 
lands  themselves  had  up  to  the  same  date  cost 
the  University  for  carrying  them,  in  excess  of 
all  receipts  from  sales,  the  enormous  sum  of 
$208,937,  which,  again,  had  to  be  raised  by  a 
loan  from  the  endowment  fund.  The  actual 
endowment  of  the  University  had  by  this 
double  process  of  subtraction  fallen  from  $1,- 
283,999.48  in  187s  to  $88s, 307.84  in  1881.  It 
was  literally  a  burning  of  the  candle  al  both 
ends. 

But  1  cannot  tell  in  detail  the  story  of  those 
dreary  years  of  waiting,  cf  despondency, — 1 
had  almost  said  of  despair.  I  will  lift  the 
curtain  only  for  a  glimpse  at  the  culmination 
of  the  struggle.  It  is  the  bodeful  year  1881, 
when  the  total  extinction  of  the  University 
seemed  a  not  unlikely  fate.  As  I  have  just 
stated,  the  nominal  endowment  was  at  that 
time  $1,283,999.48;  but  the  Trustees  had  bor- 
rowed from  it  large  sums  to  defray  the  ex- 
penses of  maintaining  the  University  and  to 


manning 
E>i:nctt« 


12 


a  Generation  of  Cornell 


Jfinaiiccfl 
In  1881 


carry  the  Western  lands,  until  the  actual  amount 
of  the  income-producing  funds  had  declined  to 
$885,307.84.  The  buildings  of  the  University 
were  in  1881  valued  at  $689,465,  which  was 
less  than  the  figures  had  ever  been  since  Mr. 
Cornell  died  in  1874.  For  all  that  t'-me  there 
had  been  no  increase  in  the  value  of  the  equip- 
ment of  departments,  which  stood  at  $225,000 
in  1875  and  $216,867.70  in  1880;  but  in  the 
latter  year  the  Trustees,  once  more  turning  to 
their  productive  capital,  voted  $50,000  from  it 
for  books,  apparatus,  and  other  equipment, 
and  $50,000  for  a  new  physical  laboratory. 
The  total  property  of  the  University  in  1881 
was  $2,206,974.38, — only  about  three  thou- 
sand dollars  more  tnan  it  had  been  in  1875. 
The  total  income,  which  in  1876  had  been 
$1 16,897.43,  in  1881  was,  in  reality,  $99, 166,80, 
though  it  was  swollen  to  $149,166.80  by  a 
fictitious  loan  of  $50,000  from  the  imaginary 
surplus,  which  was  really  a  deficit,  in  the  re- 
ceipts from  Western  lands.  The  expenses  in 
1881  were  $128,751.85,  of  which  $93,182.05 
was  for  payment  of  salaries.  Of  the  income 
of  1881 — $99,166.80 — only  $14,750  was  re- 
ceived from  fees  for  tuition. 
The  number  of  students  enrolled  in  1881-82 


Tlbe  Struggle  for  Xite 


was  384,  though  the  University  had  opened  in 
1868  with  412,  and  the  number  had  risen  to 
609  in  1 870-7 1 .  In  another  decade,  at  this  rate 
of  decline,  the  problem  of  the  Trustees  might 
have  been  solved  by  the  non-attendance  of 
students  and  the  dispersion  of  professors  ! 

Let  me  here  say  a  word  on  the  require- 
ments for  admission  to  the  University  during 
this  earlier  period.  Apart  from  the  classical 
course  which  was  in  those  days  thinly  at- 
tended, the  demands  made  on  candidates  for 
admission  to  the  University  were  very  light. 
This  was  unavoidable,  as,  whatever  the  Uni- 
versity might  have  been  able  or  unable  to  do 
for  its  students,  there  were  then  no  good  pre- 
paratory schools  excepting  the  classical  acade- 
mies. The  modern  high  school,  which  offers 
thorough  instruction  in  modern  languages, 
mathematics,  science,  history,  and  English, 
as  well  as  in  Latin  and  Greek,  is  itself,  if  not 
the  product  of  Corne'l  University,  at  least  the 
product  of  that  spirit  of  which.  Cornell  Uni- 
versity was  the  earliest  and  most  striking  em- 
bodiment in  America.  If  a  boy  of  fourteen 
did  not  want  to  study  Latin  and  Greek,  there 
was  then  no  secondary  school  where  he  could 
get  anything  else  as  an  equivalent.     With 


«3 


BItcll^ll 

aiKC  tn 

ISSI 


»H1 


I-  '■ 


ir*  I 


14 


tRcquircs 

mcnti» 

from  »8(J8 

to  tsst 


B  feneration  ot  Cornell 


girls,   of  course,  the  case  was  still  worse. 
Consequently,  when  Cornell  University  opened 
its  doors,  it  could  not  have  got  had  it  de- 
manded— and  it  was  not  in  a  position  to  de- 
mand even  could  it  have  got— a  preparatory 
training  of  students  in  other  courses  than  the 
A.B.  course  which  should  in  any  degree  com- 
pare with  that  which  the  existing  classical 
colleges  were  securing  from  their  matriculants. 
For  students  in  the  A.B.  course  the  :,iandard 
requirements  of  the  classical  colleges  were  in- 
deed insisted  on  he.'e.     But  only  40  matricu- 
lants were  enrolled  in  that  course  in  the  opening 
year  of  1868-69.    Next  in  difficulty  to  this 
Greek-Latin  avenue  was  the  Latin  avenue, 
which  simply  omitted  the  Greek  ;  and  by  this 
road  28  students  entered  in  1868-69.     All  the 
rest  of  the  students  of  that  year— 344  out  of 
a  total  of  412 — were  admitted  on  passing  sat- 
isfactory examinations  on  the  subjects  of  the 
elementary  or   common-school  programme, 
namely,  geography,  grammar,  arithmetic,  and 
algebra  to  quadratics.     And,  to  prevent  any 
misreading  of  these  modest  demands,  it  is  pa- 
thetically explained    that   the  geography  is 
merely  political  and  that  the  grammar  in- 
cluded syntax  and  orthography  ! 


mm 


T^bc  Struggle  for  Xlte 


;d 


The  great  majority  of  students  who  entered 
Cornell  University  in  those  years  came  by 
this  broad  and  easy  path.  During  the  first 
five  years  the  enrollments,  old  and  new,  ag- 
gregated 2704,  and,  of  these,  2347  were  of 
students  who  matriculated  by  passing  exami- 
nations on  the  elementary  subjects  only.  In 
1873  the  chapter  of  quadratics  was  added  to 
the  requirement  in  algebra,  but  no  other 
change  was  made  till  the  close  of  the  first 
decade.  In  1877,  however,  the  group  of 
elementary  or  primary  subjects  was  enlarged 
by  the  addition  of  plane  geometry,  physiol- 
ogy, and  physical  geography.  There  were 
also  other  improvements  in  the  entrance  re- 
quirements, two  of  which  I  must  not  fail  to 
notice.  In  1876-77,  a  Science-and-Letters 
avenue  was  established  by  superposing  on 
the  primary  requirements  a  year  of  French  or 
German  or  higher  mathematics.  At  the  same 
time  a  year  of  French  or  German  was  added 
to  the  requirements  of  the  Latin  group.  But 
the  easy  paths  of  admission,  though  in  this 
way  graded  somewhat  higher,  continued  to 
be  the  popular  means  of  access  to  the  Univer- 
sity. I  have  already  said  that  in  1881-82 
there  were  384  students  enrolled ;  of  these  2} 


15 


Sluibt 
l■^^♦all^;^: 


If 


11 


i6 


iiiiIIk:  Xcw 


a  Oeueration  ot  Cornell 


were  graduates.  Of  the  361  undergraduates 
there  were  40  who  entered  by  the  Greek- 
Latin  avenue,  and  40  also  who  entered  by  the 
Latin  avenue.  By  a  somewhat  easier  road  1 3 
other  students  in  Natural  History  and  Medical 
Preparatory  subjects  had  gained  admittance. 
Altogether  these  make  only  one  fourth  of  the 
undergraduate  enrollment.  Of  the  remaining 
three  fourths  149  had  entered  by  way  of  the 
minimum  requirements,  which  embraced  only 
grammar,  geography,  physiology,  arithmetic, 
algebra  through  quadratics,  and  plane  geom- 
etry. These  matriculants  were  in  Agriculture, 
Architecture,  Civil  Engineering,  and  Mechanic 
Arts.  The  rest — 1 19  in  number — presented  in 
addition  to  the  aforesaid  elementary  subjects 
one  year  of  French  or  German  or  the  so-called 
higher  mathematics. 

it  is  obvious  that,  whatever  their  abilities, 
their  ambition,  their  industry,  or  their  moral 
character — and  all  these  were  in  general  un- 
doubtedly high; — or  however  fully  they  en- 
tered into  the  Cornell  idea  and  responded  to 
the  Cornell  ideal — as  they  certainly  did  with 
the  utmost  devotion  and  enthusiasm; — I  say 
that,  in  spite  of  this  wealth  of  intellectual  and 
moral  gifts  and  graces,  it  was  difficult  for  stu- 


ii      i^J  '\ 


f^tf"^ 


l*fl  m     m  — >W»MM^ 


dents  with  such  inadequate  preparation  to  do 
the  highest  order  of  work  in  the  several  courses 
of  study.  Yet  there  were  notable  excep- 
tions ;  for  genius  is  stronger  than  the  shackles 
of  ignorance;  and  some  soils  are  naturally  so 
rich  that  they  need  little  teasing  by  the  imple- 
ments of  ordinary  tillage  to  provoke  them  into 
splendid  harvests.  And  the  remnant  who  en- 
tered with  thorough  preparation  was  not  at 
any  time  an  inconsiderable  one. 

The  lot  of  the  Faculty  was  far  from  envi- 
able. Able,  enthusiastic,  and  highly  trained 
young  men,  they  had,  I  suppose,  come  to 
this  seat  of  the  new  education  in  the  spirit  of 
missionaries,  or  what  Heine  calls  "knights 
of  the  Holy  Ghost."  And  their  trials,  disap- 
pointments, and  sufferings  were  not  without 
an  element  of  martyrdom.  The  men  of  let- 
ters wanted  books;  but  from  1872  to  1880  the 
library  had  expanded  at  the  rate  of  only  four 
hundred  volumes  a  year,  though  it  made  a 
considerable  advance  in  1880  by  means  of  the 
appropriations  which  (as  I  have  described)  the 
Trustees  voted  out  of  the  endowment  fund 
for  the  purchase  of  books.  The  men  of  sci- 
ence wanted  apparatus;  but  for  years  the 
equipment  of  departments  was  either  station- 


AM»  Hi 
CrtaU 


(. 


kM*l 


i 


h- 


i(' 


\ 


11 


i8 


ZU'cuiniu 
lai  ^ 

tlllU'i) 


a  Generation  ot  Cornell 


ary  or  actually  declining.  Of  course  no  addi- 
tions could  be  made  to  the  instructing  staff; 
and  its  strength  in  1881-82,  namely,  49  mem- 
bers including  instructors  and  assistants,  was 
what  it  had  been  for  the  half-dozen  years 
preceding. 

Their  salaries,  wretchedly  small,  were  ir- 
regularly paid, — how  to  borrow  money  for 
the  purpose  being  a  standing  problem  with 
the  Trustees.  A  discouraged  Faculty,  a  rap- 
idly declining  attendance  of  students,  a  de- 
creasing income,  a  diminution  of  endowment, 
a  condition  of  almost  hopeless  exhaustion  su- 
perinduced by  the  heavy  load  to  be  carried 
and  by  that  vampire  of  the  Western  forests: — 
such  fate  attended  Cornell  University  at  the 
close  of  the  first  dozen  years  of  its  existence. 

All  unconscious  slept  the  simple,  trustful, 
but  far-seeing  Founder  and  Benefactor.  Yet 
Wisdom  is  justified  of  her  children.  The 
most  daring  sweep  of  genius,  which  to  con- 
temporaries shall  seem  madness,  is  in  this 
world  of  rational  law  and  order  nevertheless 
vindicated  before  the  eyes  of  their  children. 
And  the  day  of  redemption  of  the  University 
drew  near  when  the  well  -  based  but  far- 


i 


•4" 


Crt0i0  and  Vtctocy 


sighted  expectations  of  the  Founder  were 
to  be  fulfilled.  In  the  fall  of  1880,  a  New 
York  syndicate  opened  negotiations  for  the 
purchase  of  the  entire  block  of  timber  lands 
owned  by  the  University,  and  they  finally  ob- 
tained an  option  for  sixty  days  on  27^,000 
acres  of  pine  lands  in  Northern  Wisconsin  at 
a  price  of  $i,2so.ooo.  On  the  expiration  of 
this  option  they  applied  for  an  extension  of 
thirty  days,  which  was  granted.  When  this 
period  terminated,  and  they  asked  for  a  second 
extension  of  thirty  days,  a  strange  thing  hap- 
pened. That  event — it  occurred  in  March, 
1881 — will  be  forever  memorable  in  our  an- 
nals. 

On  the  face  of  it,  it  was  another  piece  of 
madness,  like  Ezra  Cornell's  endowing  the 
University  with  the  expectation  of  a  fortune 
in  Western  lands.  Remember  that  there  was 
now  a  chance  to  throw  off  this  oppressive 
load  by  accepting  the  offer  of  the  syndicate. 
Who  will  say  that  the  Trustees  were  not  wise 
and  prudent  men  to  favor  such  a  proposal? 
With  the  memory  of  the  past  fresh  in  mind 
they  may  even  have  felt  that  they  would  be 
recreant  to  their  trust,  criminally  negligent  of 
a  great  opportunity,  if  they  failed  to  embrace 


>9 


!?.l\ni  of 


^ 


mmimm 


m 


.    [ 


»!' 


♦  .1 


20 


l^v^:tal^lll.; 
■||  II  Hue  rue 
of  1I.1CI.IV 

lU.  5;m>; 


,    ,1? 


B  Generation  of  Cornell 


the  opening  offered  by  the  syndicate.  They 
knew  at  any  rate  that  the  development  of  the 
University  was  dragging  for  want  of  income, 
and  that  a  million  and  a  quarter  of  dollars 
realized  for  the  lands  at  that  time,  and  judi- 
ciously invested,  would  enable  the  University 
to  meet  expenses  and  relieve  the  Board  of 
the  great  care  and  anxiety  under  which  they 
had  struggled  for  so  many  years.  Yet  with 
debts  around,  disillusion  behind,  and  the  dread 
spectre  of  bankruptcy  ahead,  one  man  re- 
sisted the  proposal  to  sell  the  lands.  It  was 
Henry  W.  Sage,  Chairman  of  the  Board  of 
Trustees  and  Chairman  of  the  Land  Commit- 
tee. He  was  opposed  to  granting  the  first 
option  to  the  New  York  syndicate,  and  when 
they  asked  for  a  second  extension  of  time  he 
refused  longer  to  surrender  his  judgment  to 
the  rest  of  the  Board,  and  finally  succeeded  in 
frustrating  the  negotiations  by  getting  the 
price  raised  to  $1,500,000,  which,  he  confi- 
dently assured  his  colleagues,  was  far  less 
than  the  lands  would  eventually  yield. 

In  order  to  relieve  the  pressing  necessities 
of  the  University  for  annual  income,  he  pro- 
posed that  the  lands  should  be  funded  and 
considered  as  a  University  investment  of  $1,- 


^ 


r//i' 


iMM 


■Biiiarii 


Crisis  an^  tPictor)? 


ooo,o(x>,  and  charged  with  the  interest  upon 
this  sum  at  five  per  cent.  His  recommendation 
was  adopted,  and  accordingly  in  the  years  1881 
and  1882  the  lands  were  charged  with  $50,- 
000  each  year,  and  the  sum  credited  to  in- 
come account.  The  charging  of  unproductive 
property,  the  market  value  of  which  was  un- 
certain, with  the  sum  of  $so,ooo  a  year  was, 
to  say  the  least,  a  novel  way  -^f  creating  an 
income  for  the  University  ;  but  it  was  the 
only  method  in  sight,  and  this  action  repre- 
sented the  great  faith  of  the  Chairman  of  the 
Land  Committee  in  the  future  of  these  lands, 
— a  faith  which  subsequent  events  speedily 
justified. 

If  Henry  W.  Sage  was  mad,  if  Ezra  Cornell 
was  mad,  it  was  in  both  cases  the  madness 
which  is  inspiration.  This  was  now  to  be  de- 
monstrated. The  turning-point  in  our  fortunes 
was  at  hand.  Up  to  1881  the  ruling  price  for 
pine  timber  had  been  from  fifty  cents  to  one 
dollar  per  thousand  feet  standing  in  the  tree. 
In  1881  the  large  mill  owners  in  the  West,  in 
consequence  of  a  report  made  to  Congress, 
began  to  realize  the  fact  that  the  supply  of 
white-pine  timber  was  fast  disappearing.  At 
that  time  they  were  cutting  nothing  into  saw- 


ai 


V..li.'lom 
of  Ocl;n' 


'*tJ 


jm 


22 


(  . 


til 
Xacttcni 


H  feneration  of  Cornell 


logs  below  fourteen  inches  in  diameter,  and  it 
was  estimated  that  at  the  then  rate  of  cutting 
the  visible  supply  of  white  pine  would  be  ex- 
hausted in  about  ten  years.  This  limit,  indeed, 
has  been  materially  extended  by  economies 
which  have  been  introduced  in  the  manufac- 
turing of  lumber  as  the  timber  became  more 
valuable,  by  the  practice  of  cutting  over  lands 
already  exploited  and  taking  all  trees  left  down 
to  six  inches  in  diameter  (the  present  stand- 
ard), and  by  the  use  of  immense  quantities 
of  Southern  yellow  pine  and  Western  and 
Northern  spruce,  which  have  of  late  been 
largely  substituted  for  white  pine.  But,  as  I 
have  said,  in  1881  it  dawned  upon  the  larger 
mill  owners  that  in  a  comparatively  short 
term  of  years  their  large  investments  in  mills 
and  accessories  might  be  of  no  value  owing  to 
the  exhaustion  of  the  entire  supply  of  white 
pine ;  and  then  began  a  scramble  among  them 
to  secure  future  supplies  for  their  respective 
mills.  Their  policy  up  to  that  time  had  been 
to  buy  only  as  they  desired  to  cut,  but  they 
now  saw  the  importance  of  securing  a  stock 
for  a  long  term  of  years. 

In  the  ftill  of  1 88 1  a  committee  of  the  Knapp, 
Stout  &  Co.  Company,  large  mill  owners  at 


J.) 


^^  ^- 


>«Mto> 


-fl 


IMi  l> 


tsm 


■w*  Hm-a 


^..^oi-,^..-..--. 


Crisis  an^  IDictori? 


Menomonee,  Wisconsin,  came  to  Ithaca;  and 
in  a  short  time  our  Land  Committee  had  sold 
them  30,998t*jV  acres  of  pine  land,  tributary 
to  their  mill,  ^or  $477,  sso,  the  basis  being  two 
dollars  per  thousand  feet  for  the  lumber  in  the 
tree.  This  was  an  unheard-of  price  up  to  that 
time,  and  created  great  excitement.  It  was 
thought  by  many  that  the  large  mill  owners 
were  trying  to  buy  up  all  tlie  white  pine  to 
the  exclusion  of  the  smaller  operators.  The 
following  spring  a  committee  of  the  Chippewa 
Logging  Company,  owners  of  a  large  mill  at 
Chippewa  Falls,  Wisconsin,  came  to  Ithaca, 
and  before  they  left  our  Land  Committee  had 
closed  a  contract  with  them  for  the  sale  of 
109,600,^%  acres  for  $1,841,746,  the  basis 
being  three  dollars  per  thousand  feet  for  the 
lumber  in  the  tree.  The^e  sales,  at  the  time 
they  were  made,  were  the  largest  in  amount, 
and  on  the  basis  of  the  highest  price  per 
thousand  feet  for  the  lumber,  that  had  ever 
been  known  in  the  history  of  the  white-pine 
trade. 

It  is  doubtful  whether,  in  opposing  the  sale 
of  275,000  acres  of  this  land  for  a  million  and 
a  quarter  01  dollars,  Mr.  Sage  had  any  hope 
that  his  dream  of  realizing  a  large  ilind  out  of 


^3 


ri 


i 


V. 


t-V 


24 


COlMClla 


a  feneration  of  Cocnelt 


this  land  would  so  soon  be  fulfilled.  Yet 
these  two  sales,  made  within  fifteen  months 
of  the  time  when  the  whole  block  of  land  was 
under  option  at  a  million  and  a  quarter  of  dol- 
lars, aggregated  $2,319,296,  and  only  140,- 
599t%  ^cres  of  the  275,000  acres  had  been 
disposed  of. 

I  shall  have  something  to  say  later  of  Henry 
W.  Sjge's  gifts  in  cash  to  this  University, 
which  aggregated  $1, 175,290.79.  But  greater 
even  than  his  gifts  was  the  boon  which  Mr. 
Sage  conferred  by  his  management  of  the 
lands  which  the  foresight  of  the  Founder  had 
saved  for  his  University.  It  seems  more  than 
accidental,  we  may  in  all  reverence  describe  it 
as  providential,  that  while  in  all  the  States  of 
the  Union  only  one  man — Ezra  Cornell  of  New 
York — had  the  prescience  to  foresee  the  event- 
ual appreciation  of  the  value  of  the  lands 
granted  by  Congress  for  educational  purposes, 
and  at  the  same  time  the  wisdom  to  devise 
the  means  for  husbanding  them,  in  this  State 
also,  among  his  friends,  in  the  person  of  his 
successor  as  Chairman  of  the  Board,  there  was 
a  man  whose  training  and  experience,  whose 
imagination,  judgment,  and  hopeful  faith  quali- 
fied him  to  realize  for  the  University  out  of 


t^jh 


IResultd  and  Bcbterements 


that  landed  estate  more  than  even  the  Founder 
ever  dreamed  of. 

The  investment  of  the  proceeds  of  the  land 
sales  of  1882-83  put  the  University  upon  a 
sound  financial  basis.  While  there  have  been 
times  since  when  it  was  difficult  to  make  in- 
come meet  all  of  the  demands  for  maintenance 
and  expansion,  the  danger  of  ultimate  bank- 
ruptcy, which  had  been  staring  the  Trustees 
in  the  face  for  so  many  years,  henceforth  dis- 
appeared. The  University's  struggle  for  sheer 
existence  was  at  an  end  ;  with  the  receipts 
from  the  sale  of  lands  in  1883  its  survival  was 
assured.  The  year  1882  is  the  last  in  which 
the  income  was  secured  by  the  spendthrift's 
plan  of  borrowing  from  productive  capital 
and  the  visionary's  plan  of  borrowing  from 
capital  expected  one  day  to  be  productive. 

Let  me  now  turn  to  the  second  half  of 
the  history  of  Cornell  University.  In  sketch- 
ing it  I  can  fortunately  draw  upon  personal 
recollections  and  observations.  My  own 
knowledge  of  Cornell  goes  back  to  1879-80, 
when,  a  student  in  the  University  of  Berlin,  I 
made  the  acquaintance  of  its  first  President, 
who  was  then  Minister  of  the  United  States  to 


25 


tfCMCJ  Cf 

lliiivcreitv 
1.iijtoiv! 


■:■* 


r 


i 


M  fl  ' 


wm 


-mTiMrmnuT 


IS 


T: 


I. 

in 


,r 


26 


jFioni 
IS8:»  to 

1808 


H  (feneration  ot  Cornell 


the  German  Empire.  I  watched  at  a  distance 
the  struggles  of  the  institution  until  the  year 
1884-8S,  when  President  White  invited  me  to 
Ithaca  for  a  conference  in  regard  to  the  chair 
of  Philosophy  which  Mr.  Sage  had  signified 
his  intention  of  endowing.  Since  that  date  I 
have  been  well  acquainted  with  the  affairs  of 
the  University,  and  for  the  litter  half  of  the 
period  1  suppose  no  one  has  known  them  so 
intimately.  It  has  been  a  decade  and  a  half 
of  victorious  achievement.  From  1883  to  1898 
Cornell  University  has  been  the  subject  of  a 
growth  and  development,  an  expansion  and 
deepening  of  activities,  an  elevation  of  stand- 
ards and  improvement  of  tone  without  parallel, 
1  believe,  in  all  the  eight  centuries  of  the  history 
of  universities.  Let  me  try  to  sketch  some  of 
the  phases  of  this  splendid  movement. 

I  will  begin  with  what  is  material,  and  after- 
wards describe  the  spiritual  uses  to  which  it 
has  been  consecrated.  There  has  been,  then, 
a  great  augmentation  of  the  endowment  funds 
of  the  University  and  a  corresponding  mul- 
tiplication of  the  facilities  for  instruction  and 
research.  The  first  source  of  increase  was 
the  Western  lands  which  Ezra  Cornell  had 
secured  and  Henry  W.  Sage  was  administer- 


IM 


^^ 


mt  m.m  m  mtam* 


if^Smmm 


MHM 


Itesults  and  acbterements 


ing.  The  price  per  thousand  for  lumber  in 
the  tree  advanced  lo  four,  four  and  a  half,  five, 
and  six  dollars,  and  in  some  cases,  where 
timber  was  of  very  superior  quality,  seven 
dollars,  although  when  the  first  large  sales 
were  made  in  1882-83  the  rate  of  two  and 
three  dollars  seemed  exorbitant.  From  these 
lands  the  University  has  realized  up  to  August 
I,  1897,  the  gross  sum  of  $5,694,2^8.95.  This 
amount  is  composed  of  the  following  items  : 
receipts  from  sales  of  land  and  timber  $3,588,- 
140.35  ;  receipts  from  sales  of  timber  (land 
reserved)  $2,083,552.59  ;  collections  for  tres- 
pass committed  $18,902.72  ;  receipts  for  sales 
of  hay  cut  on  hay  meadows  $3,663.29. 

The  total  cost  of  location,  examination,  and 
original  purchase  (sixty  cents  per  acre  paid  to 
the  State  for  the  scrip)  amounted,  up  to  August 
I,  1897,  to  $1,581,930.98.  This  leaves  a  net 
profit  at  that  date  of  $4, 1 12, 327.97  ;  and  there 
remain  unsold  of  cut-over  lands  and  farming 
lands  i55,9s8|Vi5  acres  of  the  estimated  value 
of  $600,000.  This  net  endowment  of  over 
$4, 500,000  is  the  sheer  creation  of  the  prophetic 
foresight  of  Ezra  Cornell  and  the  divining  judg- 
ment of  Henry  W.  Sage.  And  the  Supreme 
Court  of  the  United  States  has  decided  that 


27 


from 

'latl^^) 


I 


^r 


mmm 


28 


a  Generation  a  Cornell 


Olfte  fioiti 


the  title  to  it  is  vested  absolutely  and  indefeas- 
ibly  in  Cornell  University. 

The  other  source  of  the  financial  prosperity 
of  the  University  has  been  the  generosity  of 
our  friends.  Even  in  the  first  period  of  fifteen 
years  there  were  important  donations.  Sage 
College,  Sage  Chapel  with  the  Dean  Sage 
Endowment,  McGraw  Hall,  Sibley  College, 
were  all  given  prior  to  1883.  Gold  win  Smith 
too  had  started  the  practice  of  generous  giving 
to  the  library.  But  the  second  period,  from 
1885  to  1898,  has  witnessed  still  more  gener- 
ous benefactions.  Henry  W.  Sage  erected 
a  building  for  the  library,  provided  it  with  a 
magnificent  book-fund,  and  then  enoc  ,ed  a 
School  of  Philosophy,  spending  for  these  ob- 
jects over  $800,000.  William  H.  Sage  pre- 
sented us  with  the  Zarncke  library,  built  the 
new  stone  bridge  over  Cascadilla,  and  beauti- 
fied the  entrance  to  the  University.  Andrew 
D.  White  turned  over  his  splendid  library  of 
20,177  volumes,  to  which  he  has  since  made 
large  annual  additions  ;  and  he  has  also  pre- 
sented us  with  the  beautiful  entrance-gates  to 
the  campus.  Hiram  Sibley  enlarged  his  orig- 
inal building,  and  his  son  Hiram  W.  Sibley 
erected  another.     Mrs.  Douglas  Boardman  and 


mmmtm 


nKmiiiim 


IRcBwlXB  atid  acbtcv^emeiUd 


Mrs.  George  R.  Williams  purchased  for  us  the 
unique  law  library  of  Nathaniel  C.  Moak  con- 
taining 12,000  volumes.  Willard  Fiske  has 
given  us  the  great  Dante  library,  the  catalogue 
of  which  is  now  in  course  of  publication.  A. 
S.  Barnes  erected  a  building  as  a  home  for  the 
Cornell  University  Christian  Association,  which 
his  son  General  Barnes  is  generously  aiding  us 
to  support  and  make  efficient.  And  from 
Daniel  Fayerweather's  estate  we  have  received 
$270,000,  with  more  to  come. 

These  gifts  from  benefactors  along  with  re- 
ceipts from  sales  of  the  Western  lands  have 
marvellously  changed  the  financial  showing  of 
the  University  and  multiplied  its  resources. 
Thus  the  library  has  been  quadrupled  since 
1883,  having  now  about  210,000  volumes  and 
about  35,000  pamphlets.  The  equipment  of  all 
departments  was  in  1882  valued  at  $289,889.01 ; 
on  August  I,  1897,  it  was  $1,052,738. 13.  The 
value  of  buildings  has  increased  from  $713,- 
673.52  to  $1,736,372.86  in  the  same  interval. 
The  funds  actually  invested  in  1882  amounted 
only  to  $964,503;  on  August  i,  1897,  they 
were  $6,300,580.84.  Receipts  from  tuition 
were  $13,590  in  1882  ;  in  1897  they  had  risen 
to  $120,634. 16;  and  we  educate  512  New  York 


29 


iFiiianiial 

'J-Vbihit. 

I'Uuiii^t  I, 

IS07 


3° 


lion  of 
tbc  State 


a  Oeneratton  ot  Cornell 


students  free.  The  total  income  from  all 
sources  in  1882  was  $94,404.27  (apart  from 
$50,000  "borrowed"  from  Western  lands); 
in  1897  it  was  $S76, 1S4.82.  The  total 
property  of  the  University  in  1882  was  $2,- 
267,s62.oi  ;  in  1897  it  was  $9,089,691.83 
(exclusive  of  the  value  of  the  residue  of  the 
Western  lands,  which  is  estimated  at  $600,- 
000). 

These  are  the  financial  results  of  the  loving 
labors  and  generous  gifts  of  our  founders  and 
friends.  But  the  story  even  of  our  finances  is 
not  yet  complete.  There  is  another  benefi- 
cent agency  which,  recently  come  to  our 
support,  has  increased  our  capital,  added  to 
our  income,  and  greatly  extended  our  useful- 
ness. When  in  1892  I  Demonstrated  on  this 
platform  the  mutual  obligation  and  advantage 
of  co-operation  between  Cornell  University 
and  the  State  of  New  York,  and  recommended 
among  other  things  the  establishment  on  this 
campus  of  State  institutions  to  discharge  those 
scientific  and  educational  functions  which  no 
civilized  State  can  forego  and  which  our  State 
had  already  acknowledged  a  duty  of  govern- 
ment, I  was  met  with  countenances  of  sur- 
prise and  incredulity  here  and  with  expressions 


mmm 


mmm- 


V^esultd  and  acbtevcments 


of  dissent  and  opposition  in  the  world  outside. 
The  present  Chairman  of  the  Executive  Com- 
mittee has  since  told  me  that  not  a  single 
member  of  the  Board  of  Trustees  had  the 
slightest  confidence  in  the  programme.  And 
I  need  not  repeat  what  others  said.  It  was  all 
natural  and  inevitable  in  the  light  of  the  expe- 
rience of  the  past.  It  seemed  incredible  that 
the  State  could  be  induced  to  fund  at  five  per 
cent  the  proceeds  of  the  sale  of  the  land 
scrip — between  $600,000  and  $700,000 — when 
the  Comptroller  was  investing  it  for  the  Uni- 
versity at  three  per  cent  or  less.  Well,  what 
do  we  find  to-day?  Why,  to-day  we  have 
the  five  per  cent  bond  of  the  State  for  that 
sum.  But  it  was  with  agriculture  our  partner- 
ship began.  First  $50,000  for  a  building, 
and  then  for  instruction  $8000  in  1894-95, 
$16,000  in  1895-96.  and  again  in  1896-97,  and 
$25,000  in  1897-98;  and  the  work  has  been  so 
well  done  that  the  Legislature  has  raised  the 
appropriation  to  $35,000  for  1898-99.  Thirdly 
came  the  establishment  of  the  New  York 
State  Veterinary  College,  with  $150,000  for  its 
buildings,  $25,000  annually  for  its  mainte- 
nance, and  its  management  and  control  vested 
in  Cornell  University.     This  was  surely  a 


Stntc  fliir 
ptituti.n.i 


il 


k,»  ^ 


i  ■■■  ,1 

•J. 


Iv 


Iv: 


<  ■ 
I 


H> 


/4 


32 


latcet 
State 


a  Oeneiatton  ot  Cornell 


great  Riiin  to  the  University  and  an  *qual  ad- 
vantajife  to  the  State.  But  the  Governor  and 
Legislature  soon  discovered  that  there  was 
more  scientific  work  to  be  done  for  the  State, 
and  Cornell  University  was  the  body  to  take 
charge  of  it.  Accordingly,  last  winter,  they 
established  here  a  State  College  of  Forestry  (to 
be  maintained  by  the  State),  and  we  are  now 
engaged  in  securing  for  it  a  laboratory  of  50,- 
000  acres  of  forest  in  the  Adirondacks.  It  is 
surely  proper  that  Cornell  University,  which 
has  been  the  champion  of  so  many  new  ideas 
and  which  has  always  emphasized  the  practi- 
cal sid^  of  education,  should  have  the  first 
College  of  Forestry  in  America, — an  institu- 
tion that  is  to  do  for  the  United  States  what 
the  School  of  Tharandt  has  done  for  the  for- 
ests of  Saxony  or  the  School  of  Nancy  for  the 
forests  of  France.  Nor  have  I  any  idea  that 
the  field  of  co-operation  between  Cornell  Uni- 
versity and  the  State  of  New  York  is  yet 
exhausted.  Opportunities  to  the  mutual  ad- 
vantage of  both  are  still  in  store. 

I  remember,  too,  it  was  said  half  a  dozen 
years  ago  that  even  if — to  suppose  the  impos- 
sible— this  scheme  of  State  co-operation  could 
be  effected,  the  result  would  be  to  drive  away 


Vc0ult0  atiD  Bcbievcments 


private  benefactors  from  the  University.  As 
though  individuals  with  wealth  to  give  away 
resented  the  co-operation  of  other  philan- 
thropic agencies  !  Well,  what  do  we  find  ? 
I  will  mention  only  one  fact.  On  the  very 
day  the  Board  of  Trustees  accepted  the  Col- 
lege of  Forestry  from  the  State,  a  philanthropic 
gentleman  of  large  means  came  forward  with 
a  scheme — and  not  only  with  a  scheme,  but 
with  the  capital  behind  it — for  the  establish- 
ment of  a  department  this  University  had 
long  needed,  a  Medical  College,  which  it  is 
his  ambition,  by  enlisting  the  unlimited  re- 
sources of  modern  science,  to  mak§  better 
than  anything  the  vorld  has  ever  seen  since 
higher  education  began  with  the  Medical  Uni- 
versity at  Salerno  ! 

It  is  not  only  a  high  honor  but  a  signal 
mark  of  public  confidence  that  this  University 
should  have  been  selected  as  the  organ  of  so 
noble  a  purpose  and  the  object  of  such  un- 
stinted generosity.  To  our  public-spirited 
benefactor,  the  enlightened  and  munificent 
patron  of  the  oldest  of  the  liberal  professions 
— that  profession  whose  godlike  mission  it  is 
to  alleviate  human  pain  and  suffering  —  I 
should,  were  he  present,  desire  to  tender  our 


33 


Private 

flDunifl* 

ccnce 


34 


H  Generation  ot  Cornell 


Cornell  a 

ttvuri:! 
Uiilvcraltv 


sincere  gratitude,  and  I  pledge  him  our  hearty 
co-operation  in  the  accomplishment  of  his  lofty 
and  humane  ideal. 

Perhaps  it  is  worth  mentioning  as  a  proof 
of  the  thorough  organization  of  the  University 
that  the  new  College  could  be  grafted  upon  it 
without  any  change  in  our  statutes. 

One  departure  from  our  hitherto  uniform 
practice  has,  however,  been  made.  Cornell 
University,  like  Oxford  and  Cambridge,  is  a 
rural  institution,  situated  happily  in  a  scene  of 
romantic  loveliness,  whose  chatm  enters  into 
the  soul  of  the  student,  furnishing  him  with 
those  ii>fffaceable  images  of  beauty  which  form 
no  inconsiderable  portion  of  a  truly  liberal 
education.  Not  the  noise  and  glare  and  rush 
of  inane  city  streets,  but  the  majestic  calm  and 
beauty  of  the  face  of  nature  is  the  proper  place 
for  the  spiritual  nurture  of  young  men  and 
maidens  during  the  few  short  years  devoted 
to  the  higher  education.  And  fortunately 
there  is  no  branch  of  learning  or  science,  no 
sort  of  liberal  culture,  no  specico  of  profes- 
sional training  which  cannot  be  more  advan- 
tageously pursued  in  the  country  than  in  the 
city.  It  is  not  surprising,  therefore,  that  Mr. 
Rashdall  closed  his  great  work  on  the  History 


'^^^ly. 


•Results  an&  acbievemeiits 


of  Universities  with  the  doubt  "whether  the 
highest  university  ideal  can  be  realized  with 
the  fullest  perfection  even  in  a  single  modern 
city  of  the  largest  type." 

To  all  this  there  is  one  exception  and  only 
one.  Medicine  is  at  once  a  science  and  an 
art.  The  practical  part  of  the  curriculum  pre- 
supposes hospitals,  clinics,  and  dispensaries, 
which  exist  in  sufficient  supplies  only  in  a 
large  city.  If  a  medical  course  is  given  in  a 
small  city  or  village  Wiicre  these  facilities  do 
not  exist,  it  is  no  better  than  the  teaching  of 
physics  and  chemistry  without  a  laboratory. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  scientific  bases  of 
medicine — anatomy,  physiology,  chemistry, 
botany,  pathology,  bacteriology,  histology, 
embryology — the  subjects  of  the  first  half  of 
the  curriculum — can  be  studied  quite  as  well 
in  the  country  as  in  the  city.  This  situation 
of  affairs  has  been  carefully  considered  in  the 
establishment  of  our  new  Medical  College. 
We  have  made  the  most  adv-  ntageous  ar- 
rangement which  under  any  circumstances 
Cornell  University  could  have  secured.  What 
can  be  taught  at  Ithaca  will  be  taught  here; 
and  large  numbers  of  students  may  be  ex- 
pected to  combine  it  with  their  A.B.  course. 


35 


Collciic 
/IDainlt  111 
HAc^T  tjorfc 


H 


Jl 


1 


M  1 


.Jf^.Vi.ii^^'*-^..-^,^.*— J^— .■.i..-^..,>--«i4.^*«-   ■»' 


II 


\f^ 


Zbc 

Sfacultvct 

ttiiiicine 


H  Oeneratton  ot  Cornell 


The  last  half  of  the  medical  course  must  be 
taken  by  all  students  in  New  York  City;  the 
first  half  may  be  taken  by  men  either  at  Ithaca 
or  in  New  York  City,  while  women  (for  whom 
a  home  is  here  provided  in  Sage  College)  are 
required  to  take  the  first  two  years  of  the 
course  in  Ithaca. 

For  the  Faculty  of  Medicine  we  have  been 
able  to  secure  gentlemen  whose  reputation  as 
practising  physicians  and  surgeons  and  whose 
rank  as  scientists  place  them  in  the  van  of 
public  estimation,  and  the  experience  which 
they  have  had  as  teachers — most  of  them  be- 
ing drawn  from  existing  medical  facuhies  in 
New  York — is  a  guarantee  that  their  high 
abilities  have  already  been  disciplined  to  the 
delicate  function  of  the  education  of  students. 
I  am  sure  that  1  am  fulfilling  the  wish  of  our 
other  Faculties  when  I  convey  to  the  Faculty 
of  Medicine,  who  are  represented  by  Dean 
Polk  and  a  large  number  of  his  colleagues  on 
this  stage  to-day,  fraternal  greetings,  and  as- 
sure them  of  a  genuine  welcome  to  the  ranks 
of  the  instructing  staff  of  Cornell  University. 
We  are  all  one — one  spiritual  organism  with 
a  variety  of  functions  and  operations. 

Neither  the  New  York  State  institutions  nor 


n 


MMMMM 


'"■*^Vg' ' 


IResults  and  Hcbievcments 


the  Medical  College  are  included  in  the  figures 
1  gave  you  showing  the  property  and  income 
of  Cornell  University.  Nor  do  these  figures 
include  another  item  which  I  have  now  to 
mention.  I  mean  the  beautiful  and  timely 
gift  of  Dean  and  William  H.  Sage,  who,  as  a 
memorial  to  their  father,  have  this  year  con- 
veyed to  the  University  his  late  home  as  an 
Infirmary  for  the  use  of  Cornell  students,  with 
a  gift  of  $100,000  as  a  perpetual  endowment. 
The  idea  of  sick  students  of  Cornell  University 
occupying  the  home  of  our  Second  Founder 
must  give  that  noble  man  a  thrill  of  pleasure 
even  in  the  world  of  pure  spirits. 

Look  now  at  the  growth  of  the  Faculty.  I 
have  already  described  it  in  1882.  Ten  years 
ago,  !P.  1887-88,  there  were  88  members  in  the 
staff  of  instruction.  This  year  there  are  196, 
without  including  either  the  Faculty  of  Forestry 
or  the  Faculty  of  Medicine — the  latter  alone 
numbering  over  70 — whose  members  do  not 
enter  upon  their  duties  till  the  opening  of  1898- 
99.  I  note  too  that  while  the  proportion  of 
full  professors  is  not  declining,  the  qualifica- 
tions demanded  of  candidates  for  positions  as 
instructors  and  assistants  are  much  higher — 
calling    for  more    strenuous  and   prolonged 


37 


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38 


Zbc 
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of  CoeSas 


H  Generation  ot  Cornell 


preparation — than  in  former  years.  Anyone 
who  compares  the  courses  of  instruction  now 
offered  in  this  University  with  the  courses  of 
a  decade  ago  will  be  immediately  aware,  not 
only  of  a  great  enrichment  in  number  and 
variety,  but  of  an  improvement  of  quality  and 
an  elevation  in  character  which  mark  the  b'rth 
of  a  new  aim  and  purpose.  The  same  spirit 
IS  manifested  in  the  long  list  of  publications 
which  now  proceed  annually  from  the 
members  of  the  instructing  staff.  Naturally 
a  seat  in  our  Faculty  has  become  a  place  of  no 
ordinary  honor.  Besides  the  standing  of  the 
University  its  free  atmosphere  is  an  especial 
attraction.  Professors  in  other  universities 
gladly  accept  calls  here  ;  and  this  year  the 
distinguished  President  of  Swarthmore  College 
resigned  his  office  to  take  the  chair  of  Peda- 
gogy in  Cornell,  while  the  United  States 
Division  of  Forestry  was  not  able  to  hold  its 
Chief  when  he  received  the  offer  of  appoint- 
ment as  Director  of  our  new  College  of 
Forestry.  Just  before  the  University  opened 
the  first  President  went  to  Great  Britain  to 
secure  professors  ;  now  we  are  in  a  position 
to  reciprocate  the  ancient  kindness  of  the 
mother  country,  and  last  month  we  gave  one 


N» 


■::ss^: 


'Results  anD  Hcbievements 


of  our  professors  to  fill  the  most  illustrious 
professorship  of  Moral  Philosophy  in  the 
British  Empire — the  Edinburgh  chair  once  oc- 
cupied by  Dugald  Stewart,  and  since  adorned 
by  a  series  of  eminent  Scottish  philosophers. 
Professor  Seth's  appointment  would  have  been 
a  cruel  surprise  to  the  pedants  who  in  a  superior 
sort  of  way  used  to  dismiss  Cornell  University 
as  a  body  of  Philistines.  1  can  imagine  one 
of  them  to-day — an  honest  and  meditative 
champion  of  that  old  ideal  of  education  which 
Cornell  regarded  as  inadequate — wailing  like 
the  Roman  emperor  who  lived  to  see  the 
victory  of  the  new  and  despised  religion  of 
Galilee  : 

And  he  bowed  down  his  hopeless  head 
In  the  drift  of  the  wild  world's  tide, 

And  dying,  Thou  hast  conquered,  he  said, 
Galilean ;  he  said  it,  and  died. 

Speaking  of  the  Faculty  I  must  not  forbear 
to  mention  the  development  of  a  fine  spirit  of 
solidarity,  loyalty,  and  devotion,  which  grows 
deeper  with  each  succeeding  year.  This  is  an 
influence  of  priceless  value,  of  which  1  cannot 
speak  too  enthusiastically  or  too  gratefully. 
All  organisms  have  within  them  the  seeds  of 
dissolution,  and   experience  shows  that  an 


39 


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40 


Orowtb  Of 

"Ceprtt 

6c  Corps" 


H  Generation  ot  Cornell 


academic  society  is  peculiarly  prone  to  disrup- 
tion. This  danger  is  inherent  in  its  very 
function  ;  for  the  education  of  the  intellect  and 
imagination  giving  a  predominance  to  the 
critical  over  the  sympathetic  and  social  ca- 
pacities and  powers  of  human  nature,  with 
no  restraint  from  the  administrator's  sense 
of  responsibility  for  practical  consequences, 
charges  a  university  community  with  an 
immense  fund  of  critical  explosibility.  This 
is  the  explanation  of  Jowett's  remarkable 
statement  in  a  letter  to  Arthur  Stanley  of  the 
year  1855  :  "What  a  bad  school  for  character 
a  college  is  !  so  narrow  and  artificial,  such  a 
soil  for  maggots  and  crotchets  of  all  sorts, 
fostering  a  sort  of  weak  cleverness,  but  greatly 
tending  to  impair  manliness,  straightforward- 
ness, and  other  qualities  which  are  met  with 
in  the  great  world."  Whether  this  picture  of 
Jowett's  is  not  overdrawn  it  is  not  necessary 
now  to  discuss.  It  is  more  pertinent  to  note 
that  Cornell  University  has  so  many  depart- 
ments and  such  widely  diversified  interests 
that  it  i«  in  an  unusual  degree  exposed  to  the 
danger  of  division.  And  in  days  now  happily 
past  this  inherent  tendency  of  our  community 
was  fostered  by  a  very  inadequate  organization. 


mmism 


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•--•■•-  -^ ii..»<'<«ii>i— i«».rf»«i<ho"'^'»y^-^ 


1 


'Results  an&  Hcbiet>ements 


There  was  only  one  Faculty  in  those  days — a 
big  body  in  which  everybody's  affairs  were 
managed  by  everybody.  The  Board  of 
Trustees,  too,  sometimes  encroached  upon 
the  educational  field ;  and  professors  somehow 
found  themselves  engaged  in  the  conduct  of 
University  business.  All  this  has  in  recent 
years  been  changed.  To-day  the  Board  of 
Trustees  have  exclusive  charge  of  business  ; 
the  Faculties  have  exclusive  charge  of  educa- 
tion. The  one  Faculty  has  been  differentiated 
into  ten  Faculties.  There  are  ten  Deans  instead 
of  one.  The  Deans  administer  the  legislation 
of  the  Faculties,  so  that  professors  and  in- 
structors are  left  free  to  devote  themselves 
exclusively  to  the  function  of  teaching  and 
research.  This  is  the  only  way  in  which  a 
large  educational  institution  like  ours  can  be 
healthfully  conducted.  It  is  merely  the 
common-sense  rule  of  a  place  for  every  one 
and  everyone  in' his  place.  You  remember 
that  the  fundamental  principle  of  Plato's  ideal 
community  is  a  sharp  division  of  functions 
with  every  one  attending  to  his  own  business 
and  to  nothing  else.  1  will  say  frankly  that  it 
has  been  my  aim,  with  a  scrupulous  regard 
for  the  rights  of  every  member  of  our  Univer- 


41 


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of 
Students 


a  Generation  of  Cornell 


sity  fraternity,  to  have  this  principle  realized 
in  our  own  organic  life  and  work.  And  I 
cannot  but  think  that  this  policy,  involving  as 
it  does  a  consciousness  in  every  member  of 
his  being  a  unique  and  essential  part  of  the 
whole  living  University — with  a  place  of  his 
own  which  no  one  else  can  fill — has  had 
something  to  do  with  that  growth  of  esprit  de 
corps  on  which  I  have  already  remarked. 

Whatever  the  origin  of  it,  let  us  earnestly 
covet  a  greater  outpouring  of  this  sacred  spirit 
of  amity,  unity,  loyalty,  and  friendship.  How- 
soever we  be  separated  by  differences  of 
temperament  and  character  and  opinions,  let  us 
be  united  by  our  common  membership  in 
Cornell,  bound,  as  the  late  Master  of  Balliol 
said  in  his  famous  sermon  on  the  rebuilding 
of  the  College,  "  bound  to  each  other  by  the 
interest  of  the  work  in  which  we  are  engaged  ; 
rejoicing  heartily  every  one  of  us  in  the 
success  and  prosperity  of  all  our  members, 
both  here  and  elsewhere,  and  avoiding  the 
misunderstandings  and  causes  of  offence  which 
so  easily  arise  among  those  whose  daily  life  is 
passed  almost  in  common." 

No  development  at  Cornell  University  is 
more  remarkable  than  the  great  and  rapid  in- 


•rr-'-Tiniri  III  gi"  Tiiii"^  if"i>  nji '  it 


'Results  and  Bcbiev>ement8 


43 


crease  in  the  attendance  of  students  during 
the  last  few  years.  There  were  only  384 
students  here  in  1881-82.  When  I  first  saw 
the  University,  in  1884-8=;,  the  number  was 
575.  This  year  we  have  enrolled  1835  in  the 
regular  courses,  and  if  to  this  number  we  add 
the  192  who  attended  the  summer  school  and 
the  93  who  took  the  winter  course  in  agricul- 
ture, we  have  a  total  of  2120  students  who 
received  instruction  in  the  University  in  1897 
-98.  This  attendance  is  wonderfully  cosmo- 
politan. Cornell  students  come  from  practi- 
cally every  State  in  the  Union  and  every 
continent  on  the  globe. 

As  they  leave  us,  our  graduates  scatter  over 
the  continent,  increasing  and  quickening  the 
sphere  of  Cornell  influence  from  living  centres 
of  energetic  loyalty  and  devotion.  The  vigor 
which  characterizes  our  University,  and  which 
surprises  the  graduates  of  older  institutions, 
is  perpetuated  in  the  esprit  de  corps  of  our 
alumni  and  old  students, — in  the  solicitous, 
affectionate,  and  cordially  loyal  interest  they 
feel  in  everything  that  concerns  their  Alma 
Mater.  Happy  the  University  which  has  such 
devoted  sons  and  daughters  as  1  have  met, 
not  alone  in  New  York,  but  in  the  Western 


of  the 
Hlumiit 


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tbiiiJiafiiu 


I 


a  feneration  ot  Cornell 


prairies  and  beneath  the  Rockies,  by  the  Gulf 
of  Mexico,  and  on  the  far  Pacific  slope  which 
faces  our  rising  destiny  in  the  Orient.  Per- 
sonally I  owe  them — and  I  desire  to  tender 
them — sincere  thanks  for  the  hearty  welcome 
they  have  always  given  me  to  their  homes, 
and  the  uniformly  kind  and  all  too  generous 
support  with  which  they  have  encouraged  and 
aided  me  in  the  difficult  task  of  administer- 
ing the  affairs  of  their  /llnia  Mater.  Through 
Trustees  of  their  own  choice  they  are  able  to 
make  their  sentiments  known  and  felt  in  the 
governing  board,  and  thus  the  friction  be- 
tween graduates  and  Trustees  which  to-day 
disturbs  some  institutions  of  learning  is  hap- 
pily unknown,  if  not  indeed  impossible,  at 
Cornell.  And  yet  you  would  be  surprised 
to  know  how  closely  our  graduates  follow 
the  doings  of  the  University.  New  courses, 
changes  in  degrees,  raising  of  standards,  have 
been  the  subjects  of  almost  as  much  discus- 
sion among  them  as  in  the  meetings  of  the 
Faculties.  Nor  have  advancing  years  brought 
that  stoical  calm  which  is  undisturbed  by  the 
issues  of  athletic  contests.  I  was  told  a  few 
weeks  ago,  when  in  Omaha,  that  crowds 
assembled  there  to  read  the  telegraphic  bul- 


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l^esults  and  Bcbievcmentd 


letins  of  the  Poughkeepsie  boat-race  last  sum- 
mer, and  the  air  was  rent  with  cheers  familiar 
to  us  when  word  came  that  Cornell  was  vic- 
tor. All  over  the  country  Cornell  graduates 
will  have  their  eyes  on  New  London  next 
week.  Let  us  hope  the  spectacle  will  be 
equally  satisfactory  ! 

Very  striking  and  suggestive  are  the  figures 
of  graduation  at  Cornell.  1  have  to-day  con- 
ferred 424  degrees.  Go  back  a  dozen  years 
and  you  see  only  9s  candidates  for  de- 
grees at  the  annual  Commencement.  In  1888 
the  number  was  for  the  first  time  over  100. 
The  number  of  graduates  this  year  is  greater 
than  the  total  attendance  of  students  in  1880- 
81,  in  1881-82,  or  in  1882-83.  Since  the 
University  opened  4755  degrees  have  been 
granted,  and  of  these  half  (2451)  were  granted 
from  1868  to  1892,  and  the  other  half  (23A4) 
from  1892  to  1898.  I  find  it  difficult  to  real- 
ize that  in  the  last  six  years  I  have  conferred 
as  many  degrees  as  President  White  and 
President  Adams  together  conferred  in  the 
preceding  twenty-four  years.  Let  me  also 
add  that  the  number  of  recipients  of  advanced 
degrees — the  Master's  or  Doctor's — on  this 
stage  to-day  shows,  in  a  very  palpable  fash- 


45 


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cm  ion 

since 

1802 


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f 


46 


I 


Entrance 


B  Generation  of  Cornell 


ion,  the  growth  and  increase  which  our  Grad- 
uate Department  has  undergone.  In  1883 
only  3  advanced  degrees  were  conferred,  and 
in  1888  the  number  had  climbed  only  to  12. 
This  year  we  have  quadrupled  that  figure. 
I  have  just  handed  the  Master's  or  Doctor's 
diploma  to  49  persons. 

A  university  exists  for  the  sake  of  students. 
To  assimilate,  enlarge,  and  communicate 
knowledge  is  the  work  of  a  faculty.  The 
end  of  the  university  is  best  served,  and  the 
function  of  the  faculty  best  discharged,  when 
matriculants  are  thoroughly  prepared  to  profit 
by  the  higher  education  which  the  university, 
in  contrast  with  other  schools,  is  charged 
with  administering.  I  have  already  pointed 
out  how  deplorably  low  were  the  standards 
of  admission  here  during  the  first  decade  and 
a  ^alf  after  the  opening.  That  condition  of 
affairs  was  unavoidable — alike  from  the  point 
of  view  of  the  University  and  from  the 
point  of  view  of  the  preparatory  schools. 
But  a  great  change  has  taken  place  in  the  in- 
terval. Everywhere  the  public  are  taxing 
themselves  to  maintain  high  schools  which 
embrace  in  their  curricula  all  the  subjects  de- 
manded for  admission  to  every  course  of  Cor- 


■PBH 


mm^ 


IReeults  and  Bcbievemcnts 


nell  University,  and  which  give  instruction 
not  unworthy  of  rank  with  that  which  a  score 
of  years  ago  was  given  by  most  of  the  col- 
leges and  universities  in  the  freshman  and 
sophomore  years.  1  have  visited  such  schools 
not  only  in  New  England  and  New  York  but 
in  the  great  States  to  the  west  of  us;  and  in 
the  single  city  of  Denver  I  inspected  four  of 
them  this  spring.  This  improvement  in  sec- 
ondary education  has  made  it  possible  for 
Cornell  University,  which  draws  four  fifths 
of  its  students  from  the  public  schools,  to  ad- 
vance the  standards  of  admission.  And  I 
count  the  use  we  have  made  of  this  oppor- 
tunity one  of  the  most  important  develop- 
ments of  the  last  half-dozen  years.  Of  course 
it  meant  a  sacrifice  of  numbers.  I  think  it  a 
reasonable  estimate  that  we  should,  but  for 
this  elevation  of  the  entrance  requirements, 
now  have  an  enrollment  of  over  2500  stu- 
dents. You  will  therefore  bear  in  mind  that 
the  increase  actually  effected  has  been  effected 
in  spite  of  a  continuous  raising  of  the  entrance 
standards.  And  this  rise  has  involved  the 
great  majority  of  all  our  undergraduates.  It 
has  meant  one  or  two  years  of  additional  pre- 
paratory study  for  more  than  three  fourths  of 


47 


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Jcboolj 


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miamt  LP"*i 


48 


.advance 

in 
Entrance 

mcntd 


H  Oeiieration  of  Cornell 


all  matriculants.  This  enormous  advance  in 
our  requirements  for  entrance  may  be  con- 
trasted with  the  standards  of  the  earlier 
period.  Then  the  great  majorit\  of  our  stu- 
dents entered  with  no  attainments  beyond  the 
programme  of  the  common  or  elementary 
school.  To-day  there  is  not  a  course  in  the 
University  to  which  a  student  can  be  admitted 
with  qualifications  lower  than  those  implied 
by  graduation  at  a  high  school,  having  a 
course  of  four  years  of  study  beyond  the  ele- 
inentary  school.  Tills  is  irue  of  the  courses 
in  Agriculture,  Veterinary  Medicine,  and  En- 
gineering, as  it  is  true  of  Law  and  Medicine 
and  Arts  and  Science.  No  more  important 
step  has  ever  been  taken  in  our  educational 
legislation  than  this  lifting  of  the  University 
above  the  elementary  schools  and  superpos- 
ing it  upon  .he  high  schools — as  their  con- 
tinuation and  culmination.  1  am  entitled  then 
to  claim  that  the  growth  of  Cornell  University 
has  been  one  of  quality  and  character  quite  as 
much  as  of  numbers  and  resources.  Indeed  I 
am  disposed  to  think  that  when  everything  is 
said  that  can  be  said  of  our  growth  in  mate- 
rial prosperity,  the  elevation  of  the  scholarship 
and  intellectual  tone  of  the  University  has  been 


m^ 


Qwv  £^ucational  f  deal 


our  most  remarkable  achievement  as  it  is 
surely  our  proudest  boast,  our  best  ground 
at  once  of  rejoicing  and  of  confidence. 

The  remarkable  growth  of  Cornell  Univer- 
sity in  this  short  space  of  time — a  growth  at 
once  extensive  and  intensive — is  to  the  re- 
flecting mind  a  genuine  subject  of  wonder. 
And  wonder,  as  Plato  tells  us,  is  the  begin- 
ning of  philosophy,  that  is,  of  an  inquiry  into 
the  reason  why.  If  then  we  ask  for  the  in- 
herent ground  or  reason  of  the  development 
I  have  so  briefly  sketched,  if  we  endeavor  to 
account  for  the  hold  which  the  University  has 
secured  in  the  confidence  and  on  the  support 
of  the  American  people,  I  believe  we  shall  find 
it  in  its  constitutive  idea. 

You  may  say  that  every  college  and  univer- 
sity is  an  organ  of  the  highest  kiiowledge.  Its 
function  is  the  consecration  of  liberal  culture. 
This  was  the  accepted  view  held  a  generation 
ago,  and  it  was  deemed  sufficient.  Cornell 
University  went  further:  it  associated  practi- 
cal education  with  liberal.  It  ranked  profes- 
sional training  among  its  functions;  and  it 
enlarged  the  notion  of  learned  or  scientific 
professions  so  as  to  include,  along  with  the  tra- 


49 


IRcaeon 

foe 

Cornell's 

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50 


Conetitua 
tivc  Idea 


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B  Generation  ot  Cornell 


ditional  trio  of  law,  medicine,  and  theology, 
such  modern  vocations  as  engineering,  archi- 
tecture, veterinary  medicine,  and  agriculture. 
Whatever  calling  rested  on  science  or  scholar- 
ship, that  was  a  proper  subject  for  university 
instruction.  In  this  respect  Cornell  Univer- 
sity simply  did  for  the  nineteenth  century 
what  the  Universities  of  Salerno,  Bologna, 
Paris,  and  Oxford  had  done  for  the  twelfth 
and  thirteenth  centuries.  It  ministered  to  the 
intellectual  needs,  practical  and  theoretical,  of 
our  day,  as  they  ministered  to  the  intellectual 
needs,  practical  and  theoretical,  of  their  day. 
It  recognized  that  the  advance  of  science  and 
scholarship  had  given  rise  to  new  professions 
as  much  in  need  of  incorporation  in  a  univer- 
sity faculty  as  the  dialectics  of  Abelard  or  the 
jurisprudence  of  Irnerius. 

Hospitality  to  all  the  learned  and  scientific 
vocations  of  modern  times  is  the  first  differ- 
entiating note  of  Cornell  University.  And  the 
second  is  its  enlargement  of  the  conception  of 
liberal  culture  itself  so  as  to  give  the  sciences 
of  nature  and  the  modern  humanities  a  place 
beside  the  ancient  disciplines  of  Greek,  Latin, 
and  mathematics.  "I  would  found,"  said 
Ezra  Cornell,  ' '  an  institution  where  any  per- 


M 


^mmiPi'v 


B 


Om  Educational  Ideal 


son  can  find  instruction  in  any  study."  Ac- 
cordingly, it  is  our  ideal  to  make  Cornell 
University  an  organ  of  universal  knowledge, 
a  nursery  of  every  science  and  of  all  scholar- 
ship, an  instrument  of  liberal  culture  and  prac- 
tical education  to  all  classes  of  our  people. 
"Cornell,"  said  a  great  English  educator — 
Principal  Fairbairn  of  Mansfield  College,  Ox- 
ford,— "is  an  example  of  a  university  adapted 
to  the  soil,  bravely  modern  and  industrial 
without  ceasing  to  be  ancient  and  classical  or 
philosophical  and  historical."  1  do  not  think 
our  aim  and  spirit,  at  once  radical  and  con- 
servative, has  ever  been  more  happily  de- 
scribed. To  equal  this  terse  statement  you 
must  go  back  to  the  memorable  words  of  the 
Founder  in  his  brief  address  at  the  Inaugura- 
tion of  the  University  in  1868: 

"  I  hope  we  have  laid  the  foundation  of  an 
institution  which  shall  combine  practical  with 
liberal  education,  which  shall  fit  the  youth  of 
our  country  for  the  professions,  the  farms,  the 
mines,  the  manufactories,  for  the  investiga- 
tions ot  science,  and  for  mastering  all  the 
practical  questions  of  life  with  success  and 
honor." 

Liberal  culture  is  the  aim  of  our  Academic 


51 


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Department;  professional  training,  of  our  eight 
professional  colleges — namely,  Law,  Medicine, 
Veterinary  Medicine,  Agriculture,  Forestry, 
Architecture,  Civil  Engineering,  and  Mechan- 
ical Engineering;  and  the  enlargement  of 
knowledge,  the  newest  function  of  the  uni- 
versities, is  the  goal  of  our  Graduate  Depart- 
ment. A  disinterested  pursuit  of  knowledge 
of  every  kind — old  and  new — on  the  one 
hand,  and  on  the  other  a  practical  equipment 
for  the  several  callings  and  professions  of  the 
modern  world; — such  is  the  twofold  aim  of 
Cornell  University.  And  as  this  is  an  articu- 
lation of  the  dimly  felt  intellectual  yearnings 
of  the  American  people,  whose  sons  and 
daughters  without  discrimination  are  admitted 
to  all  our  courses,  they  have  supported,  pa- 
tronized, and  defended  Cornell  University, 
knowing  it  to  be  one  of  their  own  peculiar 
institutions,  the  product  of  their  own  condi- 
tions, and  the  embodiment  of  their  own 
ideals. 

A  modern  university  of  this  type  is  an  ex- 
ceedingly expensive  institution.  Knowledge 
grows  apace,  and  the  application  of  it  to  life 
fills  us  with  daily  surprises.     How  much  we 


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toopes  Still  Tnnrealised 


still  need  here  to  realize  our  Founder's  noble 
and  comprehensive  conception  !  We  should 
have  a  Hall  of  Languages  and  a  Hall  of  Mathe- 
matics. There  is  scarcely  a  science  which  is 
not  suffering  here  for  adequate  material  .1  jcom- 
modation  ;  and  the  creation  of  our  Medical 
College  makes  it  more  imperative  than  ever  to 
have  Halls  of  Physiology,  Zoology,  Bacteri- 
ology, etc.,  with  endowments  for  professor- 
ships, by  means  of  which  adequate  provision 
could  be  made  for  the  future  medical  students 
we  hope  to  attract  to  our  A.B.  course.  1  wish 
we  had  a  large  Loan  Fund,  so  that  no  capable 
and  meritorious  student  would  ever  be  forced 
to  leave  the  University  from  poverty.  Endow- 
ments for  Scholarships  and  Fellowships  would 
be  equally  welcome.  Who  will  build  and 
endow  a  College  of  the  Fine  Arts  from  which 
Architecture,  Music,  Painting,  and  Statuary 
might  fling  an  ideal  grace  over  the  strenuous 
intellectual  regimen  of  our  daily  lives  ?  And 
oh,  how  I  long  to  see  yonder  charming  slope 
below  Central  Avenue — which  looks  out  on 
Cayuga  Lake  and  the  Western  hills — studded 
with  Halls  of  Residence,  gems  of  architecture 
worthy  this  exquisite  setting,  and  towering 
over  them  a  stately  Alumni  Hall  consisting  of 


53 


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a  Oeneration  of  Cornell 


a  Club  or  Common  Room,  and  a  Dining  Hall 
(like  that  of  Christ  Church,  Oxford,  let  us 
say),  where  students  from  the  new  residential 
Halls  and  our  present  Fraternity  Houses  might 
take  their  meals  in  common  and  associate 
during  the  intervals  of  relaxation,  thus  wear- 
ing off  cliquishness,  fostering  democracy  and 
fraternity,  and  together  enjoying  the  ameni- 
ties of  social  intercourse  which  form  so  large 
a  part  of  a  truly  liberal  education !  The  man 
of  means  who  first  avails  himself  of  this  unique 
aesthetic,  architectural,  educational,  and  social 
opportunity  will  write  his  name  large  among 
the  benefactors  of  Cornell  University  and  in 
enduring  memory  on  the  hearts  of  its  students 
and  graduates.  I  have  faith — faith  born  of  our 
experience — to  believe  that  in  due  time  he  too 
will  come. 

Ladies  and  Gentlemen  of  the  Graduating 
Classes  : 
I  have  been  speaking  of  the  resources  and 
needs  of  your  <t/llma  Mater.  All  she  is,  all 
we  desire  for  her,  is  on  your  behalf— is  for 
the  sake  of  her  children.  The  development 
of  the  powers  and  capacities  of  students  is  the 
end  to  which  our  labors  and  appointments 


'Remartid  to  Graduatind  Classes 


are  all  instrumental — the  object  apart  from 
which  there  would  be  no  Faculties,  no  Trus- 
tees, no  University.     How  vast,  therefore,  is 
the  significance  of  education  !     If  you  have 
not  in  these  years  of  studious  preparation 
been  qualified  to  do  your  work  in  the  world, 
to  that,  extent  you  and  we  have  failed  in  our 
object.     1  want  to  see  you  all  successful  in 
your  vocations,  whether  you  are  in  business 
or  in  the  professions  ;  whether  you  are  farm- 
ers, teachers,  or  preachers;  artists,  architects, 
or  engineers;  lawyers,  physicians,  journalists, 
or  veterinarians.    And  yet  while  most  of  your 
time  will  undoubtedly  be  given  to  your  pro- 
fessions, 1  would  have  you  remember  that  a 
man  is  more  than  his  profession.    It  is  written, 
man  lives  not  by  bread  alone.     You  should 
everywhere  be  exponents  of  the  intellectual 
life.     The  public  have  a  right  to  expect  that 
you  will  exhibit,  as  the  fruits  of  your  educa- 
tion, a  reasonable  judgment,  a  breadth  of  in- 
tellectual horizon,  an  imagination  responsive 
to  high  ideals,  and  a  heart  that  beats  warm 
with  noble  and  generous  emotion.    Nor  is 
this  the  end  of  our  expectations.    Though  not 
all  of  you  may  have  gone  far  in  science,  or 
history,  or  philosophy,  yet  1  should  be  sur- 


55 


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B  6eneration  of  Cornell 


Untcllect 
ai\b  /Doral 
Cbaracti-r 


prised  and  saddened  if  I  thought  any  of  you 
left  this  place  without  a  deeper  sense  of  the 
beauty  and  order  of  nature,  the  a  gnity  and 
pathos  of  human  life,  and  the  ever-encompass- 
ing mysteries  of  Divine  Providence.  It  is  the 
Unseen  that  is  eternal.  And  in  it  our  human 
life  is  rooted  and  grounded. 

And  this  brings  me  to  the  close.  Though 
Knowledge  is  a  great  thing,  Goodness  is  greater 
still.  The  law  of  Duty  is  what  God  means  us 
to  do.  And  fidelity  to  Duty  is  the  sheet-an- 
chor of  the  soul.  I  have  seen  brilliant  college 
graduates  drag  seraphic  intelligences  down 
into  the  mire  and  the  pit.  It  is  too  tragic,  too 
horrible  to  think  of,  yet  it  is  a  terrible  fact. 
We  are  saved,  not  by  Knowledge,  but  by 
Righteousness.  This  University  has  labored 
for  your  intellectual  edification  ;  moral  up- 
building— such  is  the  law  of  the  spiritual 
world — must  be  your  own  work,  and  moral 
character  your  own  attainment.  Freedom 
means  self-endeavor.  Each  of  us  must  make 
himself  true,  just,  brave,  temperate,  kind, 
gentle,  and  pure.  These  homely  virtues  were 
never  more  in  demand  than  they  are  to-day. 
Men  talk  of  heredity,  manifest  destiny,  and 
the  force  ot  circumstances,  as  though  intelli- 


ii^:::;;^^ 


'Remarks  to  Ora^uatino  Classes 


gence  and  conscience  were  not  the  governing 
powers  of  national  and  personal  life.  It  is 
not  the  bigness  of  our  territory,  but  the  char- 
acter of  our  people  that  is  important.  And  it 
is  only  by  growth  in  individual  intelligence 
and  Righteousness  that  we  can  fulfil  our  mis- 
sion as  a  nation.  The  individual  is  the  be- 
ginning of  all.  And  the  individual  in  the 
twentieth  century  will  be  tested  by  what  he 
is  and  does,  not  by  what  he  say,  professes, 
or  pays  for.  We  are,  I  believe,  on  the  verge 
of  an  ethical  era.  For  four  hundred  years  men 
have  lived  under  the  dominant  influence  of 
knowledge.  Ideas  have  ruled  the  world. 
We  are  entering  a  new  era  in  which  ideals, 
character,  and  conduct  will  be  the  chief  thing. 
My  heart's  desire  and  prayer  is  that  you 
who  go  from  us  to-day  may  prepare  your- 
selves for  this  better  era,— nay,  may  fulfil  the 
divine  law  of  your  lives,— by  an  unswerving 
fidelity  to  Duty,  which  is  the  oracle  of  God 
within  the  soul.  And  so,  with  a  yearning 
for  your  welfare  which  I  cannot  voice,  I  bid 
you  all,  affectionately.  Farewell  and  God- 
speed ! 


57 


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